Bach, Birthdays, and Beautiful Boys
by MizzFictionista
Summary: In an unexpected encounter between fierce, fiery redhead Clary and piano-playing, pain-in-the-ass blond Jace, undeniable sparks begin to fly. (Slightly AU)


**A/N: **Guess who's back? :D I apologize for the serious delay. University has been a rather time-consuming experience for me.

Anyway, I'm here with a long overdue piece especially for the lovely MazzyStarla, who has been so good to me from the very beginning.

As always with my one-shots, AU warnings stand. I did flip a scene from City of Bones to do this and incorporated some lines from the movie as well, so just be a little open-minded. Hope you love, and if so, feel free to pass it on and leave me some leave via favorites/reviews!

And for those of you who follow my Twilight FF, _One Day_, I promise I'll get to updating soon! xo

* * *

Clary had given up on trying to sleep and was contemplating a new drawing when she heard them-the sweetest and yet most melancholy musical notes, drifting towards the Institute's infirmary that had become her makeshift home after the demon attack and her mother's disappearance.

She glanced over at Simon, expecting him to verify that she wasn't hearing things, but he was fast asleep. Not surprising since it was nearly midnight, but her mind was just too preoccupied to rest. On a whim, Clary picked up her sketchbook and tiptoed toward the door, careful to shut it quietly behind her so as not to disturb her best friend.

She followed the sound, eventually discovering a disgruntled Jace seated behind a grand piano, his initially beautiful keystrokes repeatedly ending in dissonance. Risking a peek into the room, Clary found herself face to face with the brooding—but undeniably beautiful—boy, his amber irises trained on her petite figure.

"I—I'm sorry, I just couldn't sleep," Clary hesitantly began, failing to suppress embarrassment over being caught watching. "You play that piano like you've lost your only love."

If it weren't for the faint rueful smile on Jace's lips, Clary would have thought he was angry. "Unfortunately, my one true love remains myself," he replied.

She shook her head in amusement. "Well, at least you don't have to worry about rejection."

"On the contrary, Clarissa, I do turn myself down occasionally just to keep things interesting." Jace lifted a hand, tugging deft fingers through the mess of blond locks atop his head as his gaze drifted to the object in Clary's grasp. "What do you have there?"

Clary had almost forgotten about the sketchbook. She clutched it tighter to her chest, shrugging. "Oh, this? It's nothing, just a bunch of doodles I've made while Simon's been resting."

Jace's brows shot up. "Let me see," he said, scooting over and patting the empty spot on the bench.

Cheeks blazing, she fumbled for an excuse. There was no way she'd let Jace see her drawings of him. "There's nothing worth seeing, Jace, really."

"Nonsense, but you know," he began, flashing a mischievous grin as the nearby clock tower chimed midnight. "It's my birthday, and I'm not afraid to use that to my advantage."

_Crap_. Fighting the urge to panic, Clary settled into the seat beside Jace and looked up at him with a hopeful expression. "Happy birthday, I mean that, but is there anything else I can give you instead? I'm really…protective of my sketches," she mumbled, praying that he would let it go.

"Hmm, I suppose there is one thing," Jace answered, still smirking as he leaned in close to her.

Her heart began to race. Clary refused to believe that it was because of the proximity, choosing instead to focus on his request. Her eyes flicked briefly to his lips before taking in his chiseled features once more. "I know I said 'give,' but don't push it."

Jace chuckled, clutching a hand to his chest in mock dramatic fashion. "What kind of man do you take me for?" he asked, playfully nudging her shoulder.

"I'm just saying," Clary muttered a little defensively, breaking eye contact. "Wouldn't want to give you any ideas. What is it that you want anyway?"

"I found a loophole. If you won't let me see your art, then you get to draw something for me," Jace said, his voice triumphant.

That couldn't be so bad, Clary thought. "Of?" she prompted, waiting for him to elaborate.

Just then, Clary felt a feather light touch against her jaw. She turned to the boy next to her in a mixture of surprise and confusion, but quickly regretted it. The way Jace was looking at her set fire to her insides. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

Jace beat her to it. "How does the line go?" he mused for a moment, never taking his eyes off of her. "Ah, yes, I've got it. I want you to draw me like one of your French boys."

Holy. _Hell._ If anyone else dared to quote Titanic to her, Clary would have burst into laughter right then and there. With Jace, however, there was something incredibly suggestive about it.

"I, um," Clary managed to stutter, mentally cursing her pale skin tone that made even the tiniest blush visible. She tried to look anywhere other than at Jace, but his fingertips were on her chin, forcing Clary to meet his amused gaze.

"Hey," he murmured. "Got you." Then he dropped his hand and grinned victoriously, holding Clary's sketchbook up in the air.

Now she was really screwed_. _"How did you—" she began, reflexively reaching out, but Jace easily kept the book from her reach.

Jace laughed. "Clarissa, I've been killing demons for over a third of my life. I've got all sorts of tricks up my sleeve, and besides, you were busy mulling over my offer."

"Please," Clary said, exasperation taking over. "Stop calling me that and give it back."

"I think everyone deserves something on their birthday, but if you insist," Jace replied, dangling the sketchbook in front of her.

_Damn it all._ "Fine," she grumbled in defeat. "Take a look, what do I care?"

Jace tilted his head to one side, offering up a tiny smile. "Don't need a nude model then, eh? Your loss, but this will do." He reached to cover the piano keys and then carefully laid the sketchbook on top.

Clary hoped that she could get it back before he reached her latest piece. "There, are you satisfied now?"

"Not so fast," he mumbled distractedly, flipping pages at an alarming speed. "These are incre—"

"What?" she asked, peering over to see which drawing had silenced him.

"I see why you turned down my offer," Jace finally said. "Already got me half naked. Sure you don't want the full version though?"

Mortified, Clary snatched the sketchbook and made a run for it, but Jace was quicker. His lithe form was in front of her before she had made it halfway across the room.

She almost snapped at him, but his penetrating gaze rendered her speechless. He put his hands on her shoulders, speaking in hushed tones. "Wait, I didn't mean to upset you. I just wanted to know if you'd been thinking of me as much as I have you."

Oh. _Oh._ Clary glanced up at him through her lashes, inhaling sharply.

That was all it took. One minute they were simply exchanging a look, the next his lips had come crashing down onto hers. Jace draped an arm around her waist, his body guiding Clary's to the edge of the piano.

She tossed the sketchbook onto the bench, her free fingers tugging at the hairs along the nape of his neck. Clary clung to Jace, their tongues becoming one in this achingly heated, desperately overdue moment.

Fortunately for Clary, Jace had a little more self-control than she did. As the fire between them slowly died down, he pulled away slightly, mumbling against her lips.

"Best birthday ever," he declared quietly, and despite how infuriating Jace often was, Clary couldn't help but smile like a fool.


End file.
